By Eve Bell

Last week, I wrote a post about parents’ evening and a Mother Teresa quote that had been echoing in my mind.

I don’t often receive replies to my newsletters, though I treasure them when I do (please write back if you ever feel moved to).

Last Sunday, I heard from Ana. Ana is a long-time reader who’s followed my writing since my Baba+Boo days when I wrote the weekly Snail Mail. She began:

“I hope you don’t mind me writing to you. I have just read your latest newsletter. I read them all and really enjoy them, they bring me both joy and peace at the same time. There was something in this one that bothered me though.”

Back then, an email like this would have sent me into a spiral of worry. But this email something was different.

This wasn’t a public takedown.

Not a call for retraction.

It was a quiet, thoughtful whisper saying ‘Have you considered this?’

As a brand guardian at Baba+Boo, emails like this meant sleepless nights worrying about whether our communications had damaged the brand and our team’s livelihood. I constantly fretted about feedback. Though it was always generally positive, in the era of cancel culture, it only took one loud voice to steal my sleep.

Calling me in

But this was different. This was an invitation to learn more about Mother Teresa, to explore opposing viewpoints about her legacy.

Ana didn’t call me out.

She called me in.

With gentle words, she invited me to learn what she had discovered. My stomach settled, and I felt something shift inside me.

This is exactly what we need more of. The antithesis to cancel culture.

We seem to live in a binary world of left and right, right and wrong, black and white. We see this everywhere.

On social media.

In politics.

Even in our daily conversations.

Lines are drawn. Sides are taken. But real understanding and learning happens in the space between.

I’m a forever learner, and I try to walk a mile in someone’s shoes before casting judgment. If I can’t do that, I withhold my opinion.

Ana wrote, “It is not my place to change people’s beliefs or opinions.”

Setting the tone

That set the tone as I realised we had shared values. We live in a world that’s often harsh and loud, where people are torn down instead of understood.

I realised it must have taken Ana courage to send that email. Something she confirmed in our subsequent emails to each other. Her message proves that courage and kindness can coexist, just as opposing views can.

I thanked Ana for her invitation to learn, and I did exactly that. I went away and learned more.

Her email left me wondering.

What if, instead of rushing to judgment, we paused to listen?

Instead of shouting louder, we leaned in with curiosity?

What if, instead of building walls, we built bridges?

One quiet conversation at a time.

Because when we meet differences with compassion, something shifts.

Because every conversation has the power to connect. Or divide.

And we get to choose.